Remember The Songbird
by Jasmine2009
Summary: The team tries to keep Tony's hopes alive and his mind occupied after an accident occurs.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Remember The Songbird  
Author: Jasmine (aka Jasmine2009)  
Date of story: December 24, 2011  
Universe: NCIS, mid-Season 9  
Rated: PG  
Warnings: None  
Credit: The inspiration for this story came from the short story, "And Of Clay We Are Created" by Isabel Allende, although that's pretty much where the similarities end.  
Summary: The team tries to keep Tony's hopes alive and his mind occupied after an accident occurs.

Chapter 1

It had taken three straight hours of driving, but they had finally arrived. Gibbs stretched, satisfied with the time he'd made, yet now regretting not listening to DiNozzo and stopping for coffee. Looking around, he noticed a small crowd of gawkers that had already gathered, no doubt in the hopes of seeing something, but in the remote town of Teays Valley, West Virginia, there wasn't anything to see other than picturesque views of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Regardless of the Ansel Adams' landscapes, he'd made the drive all the way out here against his better judgment. According to the official reports, several trail riders had witnessed a murder, but the details were vague and inconclusive and if it hadn't been for the Director's insistence, he would have left it up to the local law enforcement officials to investigate.

But he couldn't, so he adjusted his cap and looked around. The military base was part of a 60,000 acre training facility owned and operated by Uncle Sam for the sole purpose of training soldiers. Just about everything was done there, from heavy demolition to meetings involving the Heads of State, but the part of the base that they were currently standing could hardly be recognized as a top secret military base. This part was open to the public, and in a joint effort to improve public opinion, the government had turned it into a park-like setting, allowing hiking, splunking, camping, trail riding, orienteering and just about any other outdoor activity that could take place in the hills of West Virginia. But because the property was officially part of the US Navy's Ft. Hoakiny Marine base, NCIS was called in to investigate the alleged crime.

Gibbs walked towards a group of men donning regulation army fatigues and asked, "Who's in charge?"

"I am. Are you Special Agent Gibbs?"

"Yeah."

"Gunnery Sergeant Watkins. Looks like you made good time."

"What'd ya got, Gunny?"

"We're not sure. We got a report of a murder being committed, but can't find a body. The accounts of the incident seem to differ, too. If you want to talk to the people who called it in, they're over there."

Gibbs looked across the way to a group of middle aged women, all talking amongst themselves while their horses grazed on the fresh green grasses next to them. "DiNozzo, get their statements. Ziva, shoot the area."

Tony approached several of the ladies while cautiously keeping an eye on the thousand pound herbivores grazing a lead rope away. "Excuse me," he said. "I understand you saw a murder?"

"Well, we didn't actually _see_ it happen, but we saw the events leading up to it," one of the ladies said.

Tony eyed her, attractive in a rugged sense, and she chose her words carefully enough, but more importantly, the other ladies seemed to defer to her. "What exactly did you see?"

"There were two men, arguing. At first, we couldn't really hear anything but you could tell they were disagreeing about something. Then, they started yelling at each other."

"Could you make out what they were saying?"

"Something about not deserving something. Then, one of the men hit the other, like you see in the movies… across the jaw. When he began to walk away, the guy on the ground jumped up and started chasing him. They ran that way, towards Miners' Mountain."

Tony studied the woman, hiding his annoyance behind a friendly smile. "What makes you think one of them was murdered?"

"We heard a loud noise, like a gunshot, and then we saw a man run towards a car, get in, and drive away, fast."

"Are you sure it was the same man?"

"Positive, he was wearing a yellow and black winter cap on his head."

Tony felt something warm against his arm. Not thinking too much about it, he turned and came face to face with a long warm nose, exhaling loudly on his sleeve. He jumped away and caught the smiling face of its owner. "Thanks, ladies… if I have any more questions, I'll let you know."

"What's wrong, Tony?" Ziva asked, still snapping pictures of the countryside. "Too much animal for you?"

"I've never been particularly fond of horses, ever since my sixth birthday and my mother hired Pandora's Ponies to entertain all my friends. Did you know that ponies can be mean?"

"Yes, I do know that. But those animals don't look like ponies."

He looked back at the large creatures and had to agree; they definitely were not ponies.

"DiNozzo!"

"Yeah, Boss."

"What'd ya fine out?"

"That two men were arguing, went off towards the mountain and only one came back after they heard what sounded like gunfire."

McGee joined the group and added, "The park police and MP's have been looking for the man after the women called it in, but they haven't found anyone. There are surveillance cameras for the area, but it'll take a couple of hours before we have access to the video."

Gibbs took off his cap and rubbed a hand through his hair. The morning chill was burning off and it was turning into a bright sunny autumn day. "Spread out and canvas the area. Ducky, check with the MPs and make sure they keep everyone away from here, at least until we get back?"

"Not a problem, Jethro."

Tony and Ziva headed off to the right, uphill, towards the small mountain where the terrain was hilly and void of trees and shrubs. McGee and Gibbs headed off to the left, downhill, where the terrain was more valley than mountain with more trees and denser vegetation.

"What do you think happened?" Ziva asked.

"That's easy. One guy shot the other guy and the animals dragged off his body."

"That would explain why nothing was found, but it is too easy. There's got to be more to it than that."

"Not usually. Most crimes are very simple." He looked off into the distance and felt a sudden chill run down his spine. "I'm going to check out over there," he said, pointing to a rock formation that was embedded into the side of a small hill. He separated from his partner and walked with a purpose, thinking about the story the ladies had told him. There was no reason to doubt them, but there was no reason to believe them either; after all, this is West Virginia. Besides, wondering if one of those ladies secretly wanted to off her husband surely beat sitting in the office today thinking about his date last night. It wasn't a bad date, just not a good one. She was everything, too… smart, funny, beautiful... So it perplexed him that it didn't go better. When he stopped to think about what went wrong, he came up empty. It should have been the perfect evening, yet it wasn't.

As he approached the rock formation, he noticed what appeared to be some disturbed land, like a shallow indentation. He approached slowly, unsure of what the blemish in the otherwise pristine landscape could be. Looking back over his shoulder, he watched Ziva, fifty yards away, meander around the area seemingly without purpose. He saw Gibbs and McGee way off in the distance, looking behind shrubs and beating back bushes. Something was causing his gut to constrict and he stopped, placing a hand on his gun.

"You got something?" Ziva yelled, perplexed by her partner's sudden caution.

Gibbs and McGee perked up and looked across the way.

Tony held up one hand and continued warily towards the black imperfection in the ground. As he got closer, he saw that it was indeed some kind of indent, but not like a ditch, more like a hole. The green grass and dirt was ragged and sloped inwards with clumps of sod dangling down. He leaned over and peered into the darkness, seeing nothing but total blackness and thinking he'd seen one too many movies with bottomless pits in them. He pulled out his flashlight and switched it on.

The ground moved, or at least he thought it did. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. Then it creaked, and he was sure he heard that. He looked around, honing his senses to anything out of the ordinary. Now he was certain the ground under his feet swayed with more deliberation. He shifted his weight, suddenly realizing why he couldn't get any traction, but by then, a loud crack resonated inside his ears and his instincts, which were always spot on, told him he had better get the hell out of dodge. He turned to run, but there was nothing on which to push off. Just when he thought he found some traction, the earth under his feet gave way and he felt as if he were being sucked into the bowels of Mother Nature herself.

Ziva watched her partner be swallowed up by the earth.

Gibbs and McGee witnessed him vanish too, although at the time they weren't sure what had just happened.

"Tony!" Ziva yelled, breaking into a run. "Tony!"

"_Stop_!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a throng of men on an intercepting course.

"STOP, MA'AM! THAT'S AN ORDER!"

Ziva almost ignored it, but after taking in the full scope of the approaching men, she pulled up. Half a dozen MP's and Rangers were running at her, weapons drawn. "My partner! He's was standing—"

"—We know! We saw what happened!"

"I have to get to him!"

"You can't go over there! It's not safe!"

Gibbs had made rapid progress and was demanding, "Why?! My agent just—"

"—Because, Agent Gibbs," Sergeant Watkins said, catching his breath from the sudden exertion of energy. "You'll end up the same way!"

"What are you talking about?" Ziva yelled, antsy to push past them to her partner.

"This area isn't safe. The locals all know that, but the out-of-towners don't! That's why we have signs posted!"

Breathlessly, McGee asked, "What signs?!"

"Those over—" Watkins pulled up short when the sign he was pointing to didn't exist. "Well, we used to have signs; sometimes the kids come around and pull them up as souvenirs."

Gibbs took two steps before an MP held up his hand and stopped him; however, the team leader's stare was enough to compel the man to take two steps backwards.

"Hold on, Agent Gibbs!" Watkins said after seeing the effect he had on his man. "You may have jurisdiction over me and everyone here, but it ain't gonna do you a bit of good if you're dead."

"Are you saying my agent's dead!"

"No! At least I hope not!"

"We're wasting time!" Ziva yelled, "My partner just vanished!"

Watkins tried to speak as fast as he could, "I've already radioed for help. If your man is still alive—"

"—What the hell do you mean, 'IF he's still alive!'?" Gibbs barked.

"The shaft he fell into could be anywhere from ten to fifty feet deep."

"Shaft?"

"Yeah, this area is full of old mine shafts and tunnels dating back a hundred years. The whole mountain was heavily mined for a quarter of a century before the mines were abandoned. Most of them are sealed off now, but if what happened to your agent is what I think happened, this whole area is very unstable and could collapse at any time."

"What about my man? What are you saying happened to him?"

"He's probably fine, but we can't take the risk of losing anybody else until we check it out. I have someone contacting the Corps of Engineers and they'll be here within thirty minutes. Until then, I can't let you roam this area; it's just too dangerous!"

Gibbs looked across the way to the rock formation where Tony was last seen. "How long before we establish contact with him?"

"We're on the horn now arranging the necessary equipment. Just give us the time we need to make it safe and I promise we'll get your man out of there."

Gibbs shifted uneasily at the request, but he couldn't risk anyone else's life, not even his own, without more facts, and so far, Watkins' argument was compelling.

"C'mon," the soldier encouraged, and motioned the way with is arm, "we're set up over there. We'll be in touch with your agent in no time. Just let us do our job."

Gibbs' looked into the distance where Tony was last seen, then into his agents' expectant faces. Finally, he acquiesced and nodded to Ziva, "Go."

"But Gibbs—"

"Go! C'mon," he coaxed, not exactly sure how he felt about this course of action.

"Thank you, Special Agent Gibbs." To the rest of his MPs and Park rangers, he yelled, "Okay! I want this entire area taped off! And I want those signed replaced! I do NOT want to have to worry about anybody else falling into an old mine shaft!"

**TBC. Please feed my muse with any and all comments, especially those comments that offer ideas for improvement or can point out inconsistencies or outright errors. **


	2. Chapter 2

_**I'm on a roll with writing, so I'm posting as I get finished with each segment. **_

Chapter 2

Tony opened his eyes and blinked. "What the hell just happened," he moaned. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out nor could he decide which was blacker: the inside of his lids or what he was staring at. He tried to move, but it felt like he was in a bag, which was tightly wrapped around his lower body. "Jesus!" he winced as pain shot up his leg. Wherever he was, he was wedged in tight and he wasn't going anywhere any time soon. From the waist down, he couldn't budge, but he seemed to have a little bit more room around his shoulders.

He felt debris falling on his head and he looked up. It was difficult to judge the distance, but there was a small opening out of which he could see straight up into the sky. At least he thought it was the sky. "Hey!" he shouted, but even he could tell he needed way more force than that if he was going to be heard. It was becoming clearer to him what had happened and he remembered the loud breaking sound just before he plummeted.

Reaching into his pocket he found his phone. "All right. At least one thing is going my way." He used the light from it to illuminate his surroundings. All around him was black mud, clumped together, wet, and slimy. There were pieces of railroad ties jutting out at intervals, but mostly there was mud and more mud. Within arm's reach was an unusual formation that caught his eye. He pulled a clump of mud away, careful not to collapse a wall. He continued to dig in the darkness, shielding his eyes from flying mud bits until his fingers felt like they were on fire.

Something hard fell on him and he startled. But his reaction was nothing compared to how he reacted when he shone his cell phone on the object and saw it was a man's arm that was resting on his chest.

Chapter 3

Gibbs felt helpless just standing around and watching the hustle of soldiers as the perimeter was taped off, and makeshift tents were erected to cover some of the more expensive equipment. The crowd standing around had doubled in size and there was even a small van with the letters WKOP stenciled on the side and a large metal rod protruding from its roof. "This is going to make the five o'clock news?"

Watkins had seen the van drive up and nodded, "It's a small town, Agent Gibbs, and this is news. Hopefully by five o'clock it'll be 'old' news. You tried calling your agent?"

"Yeah. No answer." Then, as if on cue, his phone rang and he looked at the number, surprised by what it said. Flipping it open, he answered, "DiNozzo! Are you okay?"

"Found him, Boss."

Gibbs adjusted his NCIS cap and said, "What?"

"I found the guy that was in the argument, I think. At least I hope it's him and not someone else. I don't think he was shot, but I can't tell."

Watkins had brought over a small cellular phone attachment and motioned to Gibbs. "Tony, I'm going to put you on speaker phone." Gibbs shoved the handset into the device and Watkins flipped a switch. Gibbs continued, "DiNozzo! What happened?"

"I'm not really sure, Boss. I was investigating a hole when the ground under my feet gave way and I fell in."

"Are you okay?" Ziva said.

"I can't move my leg; I think it's broken. And I'm wedged pretty tightly into this space."

"How far down are you," Watkins asked.

"Maybe twenty, twenty-five feet."

Gibbs caught the slightest bit of worry flash across the Sergeant's face.

"Okay, Agent DiNozzo, hang tight. We're going to be lowering down a rope to you in a few minutes, and we'll pull you up."

Tony tried to move his legs again but it wasn't happening. "Okay," he said, but he was not terribly hopeful. "I have to tell you that I'm covered in mud and can't move too much."

"Stay on the phone, Agent DiNozzo, we'll talk you through it."

Tony was mildly amused at the idea of being talked through a rescue that was largely one-sided, but didn't say anything. He wanted to get the hell out of that pit and away from his dead pit-mate.

While he waited on the phone, McGee was fascinated by what he saw being prepped on the table. "What is it, Sergeant Watkins?"

"This is an R3T Aeronautical Droid."

"It looks like a toy helicopter."

"Don't let it fool you. This little 'toy' helicopter costs twelve million dollars to make, can fly undetected into enemy territory, recon the area, send video AND audio back to us, also undetected, and can be completely remote controlled as far away as 3000 miles."

McGee watched as its handler carried the machine to the field and prepped it. He attached one end of a heavy duty rope to its underbelly and then returned to the console to power it on. Tim watched in fascination as the blades began to spin at strength. The amazing part was it made no sound! The handler talked into his radio and soon the Droid was lifting off the ground and hovering silently.

Watkins said, "Okay, Agent DiNozzo, we're going to drop a rope down to you. Let us know when you can reach it."

Tony looked up at the miniscule opening and wondered if a rope could even fit, but he had, so he simply replied, "Okay."

Watkins gave the signal and the operator sent the helicopter off in the direction of where the agent had disappeared. Staring through binoculars, the team watched the helicopter fly away.

Tony looked up and saw the rope being dropped into the hole. "I see it. Keep lowering it." Eventually, he was able to grab hold of it and, with some difficulty, managed to slide it over his head and under his arms and tie it off. "Okay, I'm ready."

Watkins waved his finger in the air and the truck to which the rope was tied slowly rolled forward, taking up the slack.

Tony thought this might hurt, given the condition of his leg, but he was entirely unprepared for the excruciating pain as his body seemed to be ripping in half.

Watkins yelled to the truck driver, "_Stop_!"

"Tony?" Gibbs yelled at the phone, and then waited rather impatiently for his agent to catch his breath.

"Sorry, Boss, I'm—I'm stuck in here pretty good."

"S'okay, Tony. We'll think of something else."

Watkins rested his knuckles on the table and asked, "What's got you stuck, Agent DiNozzo?"

Tony felt the dirt covering his legs and tried to determine what exactly was clamped around him. "I don't know what's got me…. A lot of clay and dirt, maybe a timber, but I can't make it out."

"We're going to send down a small shovel. Can you try and dig yourself out enough to free up your legs?"

"I can try." There was a momentary pause and then Tony said, "Hey, Boss, you still there?"

"Yeah."

He took a minute to catch his breath before saying, "I'm gonna send you a picture of this guy. Maybe Abby can ID him?"

Chapter 4

Ziva paced the small area, feeling helpless. "Why can't someone be lowered down to help him?"

"There's barely enough room for him to move, much less another person, Ma'am," Watkins patiently explained for the second time.

"I still don't understand," she said, but it was more to be saying something than really not getting it. "And what about your… your Core of Pioneers? What are they doing?"

McGee looked at Watkins and translated, "She means Engineers. Core of Engineers."

"Oh. They're doing their job, ma'am. Right now they're using sonar to measure the density of the land so we'll have some idea of where we can, and cannot, walk."

Ducky asked, "I'd like to send down some medical instruments, perhaps get some vitals on our agent."

"Get them ready and I'll see what I can do."

Watkins studied the NCIS personnel. He didn't know a lot about the agency because, fortunately, he had never had any dealings with them. But he didn't expect what he saw. The group of federal agents didn't exactly work as a team, but rather as a family. They took direction from the one they routinely called Boss, otherwise known as Gibbs, and at times, it appeared as though they didn't even have to speak in order to understand what he wanted. The one thing that they all had in common was a deep concern for the man trapped in the mine shaft. He thought it best not to share some things he already knew.

Watkins looked at his watch; it was now past three and the sun was still bright, and the early October day crisp. The parking lot had more vans sprouting antennas, and more reporters dressed in suits and high heels were milling about. He wondered how long this event would keep everyone's interest. Then he wondered how long the base CO would allow it to be covered. None of that was his concern, so he turned his attention back to the problem at hand and was very relieved to see one particular man walking his way. "Dr. Payne! Glad you could make it!"

"I saw it on the news and half expected to get a call."

Gibbs watched the greeting with interest.

"Let me introduce you," Sergeant Watkins said. "Dr. Payne, this is Special Agent Gibbs with NCIS in DC. And this is Dr. Mallard, their Medical Examiner."

Ducky said, "Doctor? Are you a medical doctor?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I'm a research doctor with a PhD in Geology and History."

"Dr. Payne is our resident guru on the area. He knows its history and he knows the lay of the land. He'll be able to help us determine if there is a different ingress to your man."

Payne unrolled a stack of papers which seemed to be a hodgepodge of older geological maps mixed with newer land surveys. Gibbs studied the papers and made mental notes of the various landmarks. He listened to the recitation by the doctor, until they were interrupted by Petty Officer Phillips, "Sarg, I think we're ready to drop the camera."

McGee approached Gibbs and reported, "I've been working with the engineers setting up a transmission between Tony and us. We'll have a video feed and comm link when it's complete."

Gibbs looked around the tent at the various monitors, the massive number of cables, generators, and audio equipment that he'd watched being set up and configured, and observed, "It's MTAC without the satellite."

McGee shrugged, "Actually, Boss, we do have satellite."

Impressed with the availability of such high tech equipment, he asked, "When do we go live?"

Watkins answered, "Now. Get the Droid ready, Petty Officer. And Agent Gibbs, get your man back on the phone."

Gibbs punched the number into the speaker and waited.

"Yeah, Boss."

"We're setting up a camera to survey the shaft." He wasn't sure what he expected, but he knew silence wasn't it. "Tony?"

"When am I getting outa here?"

"Soon. We have the Corps of Engineers working on a plan."

Ducky added, "We're also sending down some medical equipment so you can give me your vitals."

"Okay. Did Abby find out who this guy is?"

"Not yet."

Ziva heard the chill in her partner's voice and asked, "Would you like something to drink, Tony? Maybe some hot coffee?"

"Sure."

Watkins gestured to Phillips who double timed it to get a thermos of coffee. "Agent DiNozzo," Watkins said, turning his attention to the phone, "in about five minutes, the Droid will hover over the opening and drop a wire down. It'll allow us to see the inside of the shaft. Once that's in position, we'll lower the medical supplies and coffee. Are you hungry?"

"No, just cold."

It's going to get a lot colder, Watkins thoughts. "Hang tight."

"I ain't going nowhere."

Gibbs stood behind McGee and they both watched the monitor intently, which displayed the Droid flying low over the terrain towards the shaft. The picture was crystal clear and McGee marveled, "Boss, I've only read about this kind of technology. I've never actually seen it."

Ziva said, "Let's hope it tells us what we need to know to rescue him."

"Did you forget I'm still on the line?" Tony asked.

"Not at all," Ziva replied, "But you should save your battery life."

"Why? Just drop down another phone if this one runs out."

Gibbs smiled; couldn't argue with that.

"Tony?" Watkins said from the far side of the tent. While the others were tracking the progress of the Droid on the monitors, he was tracking it using binoculars. "You should be seeing the camera descending any moment now."

Had there been anything else to look at, Tony might have actually thought the information was ridiculous, but he continued to stare up at the hole until he saw the small hovering device. With little arms that were being controlled from afar, the robot dropped down two metal rods forming an X over the hole and then attached a wire. Once that was done, it disappeared. Tony could see a small beam of light shine down on him causing him to squint as his pupils adjusted.

Watkins yelled, "Tell us when it's halfway down!"

Tony had no idea when it made it halfway. He could barely see as it was difficult to focus. Nevertheless, he took a guess and said, "Stop."

"Okay, we're going live with this thing in three, two, one. Turn off your phone, Agent DiNozzo, and let's check the audio."

Tony flipped his phone closed and stared up at the small dot of light.

"Can you hear us okay?"

Tony nodded, "Yeah. Can you hear me?"

"This is remarkable, Tony," McGee gushed. "You're coming in crystal clear, both visually and auditorily."

"I'm impressed, Probie, but what I'd really like now is—" Startled by the interruption, he stared at his ringing phone. Absentmindedly, he said, "Hold that thought, Probie." Then, recognizing the number he forced a smile, flipped it open and said, "Hi, Candace."

Watkins stared at the monitor, stunned, "Is he taking a phone call?"

McGee shrugged, "Yeah."

"From a girl?"

McGee shrugged again, "That's Tony. He has lots of girlfriends."

Gibbs smiled. There're parts of Tony's life that reminded him of his own.

In the stunned moment, they listened in on the private conversation, "Last night was fantastic, but now's not a good time to talk… Yes…I promise I'll call you—"

"—Clear the line, Agent DiNozzo!" Watkins said, cutting across the conversation.

"Gotta go!" he said, flipping the phone shut. Turning his attention back to the small light, he asked, "So now that you can see the situation, how are you going to get me outa here?"

Watkins felt all eyes on him. "We are working on it. You have to be patient until we come up with a new plan."

Tony tried again to move his lower torso, but without any luck. He lay back, breathing hard from the exertion. The camera focused clearly on the trapped agent, and for a minute, the team just stared. For the first time, they took in the gravity of the situation. Tony was at least twenty five feet down in an old mining shaft, on his back, covered in mud and unable to free his legs. When he looked up and into the camera, little did he realize his own eyes betrayed him, and his teammates saw an emotion Tony rarely displayed: fear.

**TBC: Any comments are welcomed. I use them to feed my muse and it keeps my creative juices running. Thank you to all who have reviewed!**


	3. Chapter 3

~~Many thanks for the reviews; they are greatly appreciated. And a special thank you to "Guest" for pointing out a big error.

Chapter 5

"How's he doing, Dr. Mallard?" Watkins asked.

"His body temperature is low, superficial cuts and bruises that will heal. It's his leg I'm worried about and his general disposition that is concerning. It would help if we could give him some idea of when he'll be extricated from the shaft."

Gibbs listened intently. The afternoon had faded into evening and the temperature was dropping. They had been given warmer coats and three more tents had been erected to house all the personnel now working on the rescue. Tony had been given coffee which he barely drank, food that he didn't touch, and a blanket that he sent back when it became saturated by cold, seeping water.

The tent had two sides down, which served to block the wind, and two sides rolled up, which gave them views of the hill and the parking lot behind them. Inside the tent, it had become quiet. There was not much anyone could say that hadn't already been said. McGee bit his lip, waiting and watching, as another bout of shivering wracked his friend's body. Forcing a smile, he said, "Hey, Tony?"

"What."

"This reminds me of a book I read as a kid. It was called Remember the Songbird and it was about a group of Pennsylvania miners who were trapped in a shaft for nearly a week."

"A week? Don't tell me this is your way of cheering me up?"

"Wait, it has a good ending."

Tony looked directly into the camera and said, "No, it doesn't."

"Yes, it does! They all got out alive!"

"Probie!" Tony said, restraining himself, "I read the same book, and all BUT ONE came out alive!"

McGee searched his brain, coming up empty, "I'm sure that they were all rescued." Turning to the nearest colleague, he asked for confirmation of his memory, "Did you ever read that book, Ducky? It was required reading for me in the seventh grade."

"I didn't have to read the book, Timothy, I remember the actual event. It was in the late 1950's and if memory serves, all the miners were rescued… all but one, that is."

McGee shook his head and bemoaned the fact that he was wrong. "I could have sworn that—" he stopped short. "Hey! wait a minute… something's not right here."

"What's that, Probie? That your MIT brain failed you?"

"No," McGee said, wrapping his head around a new found realization, "that you actually read a book!"

Ziva and Gibbs and even Ducky chuckled. Watkins also smiled, enjoying the easy camaraderie that came with this unique group of NCIS agents.

"Very funny, Probie. Contrary to popular belief, I spent quite a bit of my childhood reading."

Ziva smiled, "You did? What, there were no movies back then?"

Tony bristled, before saying, "I know it's hard to believe but I wasn't always a great kid. In fact, I was in trouble a lot and, as such, the only thing I was allowed to do was read. Watching movies and television was a privilege reserved for those kids who didn't mouth off to the guards, or sneak out."

Ziva's smiled dissipated and she asked, "Just what kind of trouble did you get into?"

"The kind that involved detention centers and guards and small rooms and solitary confinement. What other kind is there?"

"What did you do to deserve that?"

"I developed an unrequited love of fast cars, and I liked to joy ride. Never really got caught until I hot-wired a cop car and took her for a spin around Connecticut."

The men in the room could barely contain their smiles. In effect, the man in the shaft had done what every boy had ever dreamed of doing.

Ziva didn't find it as humorous and asked, "Why would you hot wire a cop's car?"

"I just told you… it was fast."

Ziva shook her head at her partner's admission and at her colleagues' amusement. "I had no idea, Tony."

"It was a short lived life as I discovered fairly quickly that it wasn't for me." Another bout of chills enveloped his body leaving him breathing heavily. "What's the latest on getting me outa here? Or at the very least getting some heat down here?"

Watkins felt like a broken record, but he didn't fault the man for asking, again. "The data from the camera is being analyzed, and the maps are being used to see if we can access your location from a different angle. They're working on a plan that actually gains access to you from below. They think you're sitting on another tunnel; one that's easier to get to. The Corps of Engineers has the best resources at its fingertips, but if we make the wrong move, the entire mountain could collapse on itself."

Tony's eyes darted back and forth as he comprehended what was said. Watkins saw the confusion on his face and anticipated the question even before he asked, but allowed him to ask anyway, "How's that p‑possible?" he stuttered, teeth now clattering against the cold.

"It's like this, Agent DiNozzo, think of the mountain as an empty egg shell, and over the years, the shell has been covered and camouflaged by decades of dirt and grass and vegetation. For the most part, it's been exceptionally sturdy, but all it takes is a crack and the entire structure becomes unstable."

Gibbs asked, "If it's been okay for years, why is it just now collapsing?"

"According to both Dr. Payne and the Corps, they think the cracks are a result of the recent east coast earthquakes. Some have been as high as 4.9 and with the epicenter in central Virginia, they have every reason to believe that these earthquakes and their aftermaths are the cause of the instability." He covered the small mic preventing DiNozzo from hearing his next words and said, "The worst thing that could happen right now is another earthquake."

Thinking it forward, Tony said what his brain logically concluded, "So let's pray we don't have another earthquake any time soon."

Watkins looked at Gibbs and said, "Smart boy."

"You have no idea."

Resigned, Tony looked around, rubbing his arms and blowing into his hands for warmth. He asked, "Have you ID'd this guy yet?"

"No, not yet."

Watkins said, "He probably unknowingly set off the sequence of events." Turning back to Gibbs, he quietly said, "I know you don't believe this because your man is stuck down there, but we're damn lucky we don't have a major disaster on our hands."

"You're right, I don't believe it, and as far as I'm concerned, you do have a major disaster on your hands," Gibbs replied, anger seeping into his tone. "How much longer before we can bring him up?"

"I hear your frustration, Special Agent Gibbs, but if we make the wrong move, your man doesn't stand a chance. Right now, at least he's got a fighting shot at being pulled out alive."

Ziva looked at the screen. It was obvious that her partner heard those words. He subsequently closed his eyes but by now the cold had permeated his body and his entire upper torso shivered.

Chapter 6

The night dragged on. Each took turns keeping Tony company, watching him catch cat naps when exhaustion was too great to overcome. McGee studied the monitor and something strange caught his eye. "Tony? Are you awake?"

"No, Probie, I'm in a deep comfortable slumber."

"What's that next to you?"

Gibbs and Ziva were up and looking over his shoulder at the monitor.

Tony picked up his hand and felt around, "It feels like water. Really cold water."

McGee covered the mic and said, "That wasn't there an hour ago."

Gibbs picked up the radio to contact Watkins but he entered the tent hurriedly before he could get any words out. Gibbs pointed at the monitor and asked, "What do you make of that?"

"I know; we already saw it," Watkins said. "Tony!" he hissed, using the agent's first name. "Can you move at all?"

Tony tried again to move his legs. There was some change, but the sharp pain that shot up his left side caused him to snarl several expletives before he slammed his head back against the wet mud. "I can't…. I can't move it," he announced breathlessly.

"What's happening?" Gibbs demanded.

Watkins picked up the radio and ordered the Droid readied for an emergency drop. Turning to Gibbs he stated, "The shaft is filling with water; it's coming from a natural spring that runs through the mountain." Without waiting for a response, he turned and disappeared out the tent.

Ziva looked at Tony, who was staring directly at the camera, eyes wide. He'd obviously heard.

"Hang on, Tony. They're getting you some help," McGee said, although he wasn't sure what they were going to do.

"They'd better hurry, Probie, because unless I can grow some gills, this isn't going to end too well for me," he said, a quiet resignation to his voice. He was shivering now, uncontrollably in the cold water as it rose slowly to his waist. "Shit," he muttered, trying to free his legs, "This is _not_ how I pictured going out."

"Tony, pack as much mud around you as possible," Ducky said. "It'll act as a barrier and insulator to the water. It'll still be cold, but bearable."

Watkins came back into the tent, out of breath, and spoke into the microphone, "Tony, we're sending down an oxygen tank. It'll have two hours of air, so don't use it until the last possible minute." Covering the mic, he whispered, "I hope it's enough!"

The cold was making it difficult to breath let alone speak, but he nodded and continued to pack mud around his chest and torso while looking anxiously above for the tanks. He saw it descend slowly and then stop. "Keep it coming down. I can't reach it!"

"Damn it," Watkins hissed into his radio. "Move the Droid to the left!" The words were needless but it made him feel better. Every tent had a link to DiNozzo and everybody was watching the Droid maneuver the tanks within reach. The last thing anyone wanted to do that night was watch a federal agent drown on their base.

The water had reached Tony's neck and he stretched upwards trying to touch it.

Gibbs sat down in front of the monitor and growled, "Tony, grab the damn mask!"

"I'm trying, but I can't rea—r each it."

"I don't give a damn what you _can't_ do, Tony! I only care about what you _can_ do, so _grab the damn mask!_"

With one painful thrust, he lunged, gasping as the pain blurred his vision. With two shaking fingers, he managed to grab hold of the strap and pull it down, extending the hose. Even though the tanks never quite made it to him, at least now he had the mask in hand. As the water rose, he inserted the mouth piece and turned the small knob to start the flow of oxygen. When the icy cold water crested over his face, it felt like a thousand bee stings. Soon, he was relegated to listening to his own breathing as the water completely engulfed him.

Ziva had turned away, not being able to bear the image of her partner being submerged in freezing water. McGee and Gibbs stared intently at the monitor as the water level rose, rippling majestically towards the camera. Watkins dropped his shoulders and covered the mic again. "If you want him to make it, I suggest you talk to him and keep him calm. That tank only has a couple hours worth of oxygen, less if he panics. Talk about anything, but just keep talking. Remind him to breathe steadily, and you keep listening to the sounds of those tanks. If that sound stops…, well, you'll know he didn't make it."

When McGee realized that Gibbs wasn't going to talk, he began, "Ah, you're doing great, Tony. According to the engineers, the water will recede soon, so you just have to wait it out. And remember, just breath normally and slowly. Ah…, anyway, I…, umm, don't know if I ever told you this, but I used to be a pretty good swimmer. I never made the swim team, but I could hold my own…" Tim talked, but it was anyone's guess as to how long. The people in the tent learned quite a bit about their MIT colleague; a scenario that was repeated each time a different person sat down in front of the microphone.

As for Tony, he could hear his friends, but his mind was numb. After the initial pain of the water faded, he concentrated on his breathing and only his breathing. He knew he didn't have endless oxygen but he had to keep that thought at bay; else, he would think about what came next, and he couldn't the thought of dying that way.

Chapter 7

"Excuse me."

Ziva had been telling Tony about one of her earliest memories of a family vacation when the voice interrupted her. She looked up and saw a tall, rotund black man standing by the table wearing a clerical collar. Gibbs and McGee stared intently. She was quick to address him, "We are not in need of your services, Father."

"Perhaps you're not, but maybe Anthony is?"

"Father," Gibbs said softly, "he's not going to die."

Ducky patted Gibbs on the back as a gesture of understanding, and then stepped between the two and addressed the cleric. "You'll have to excuse us, Father. It's been a very long night."

"I know. I've been watching this from the other tent. I'm only here to talk to Special Agent DiNozzo, and anyone else who may need it."

Hesitantly, Ducky asked, "Do you know something we don't?"

He shook his head. "Like I said, I'm only here in support of anyone who may need my services. I'm the base Chaplain and have been visiting each tent, saying prayers as requested."

Ziva interrupted, "Gibbs, look at this!" It was almost unnoticeable, but the water level was changing. "It's going down!" She looked up at the clock and breathed a sigh of relief.

Watkins pushed through the flap on the tent with a smile on his face. "The water is receding, and Tony still has forty-five minutes left in his tanks. This is good news!"

Ten minutes later, the water was around his chest. "Tony? Can you hear me?" Watkins asked.

Tony was lying very still and breathing very lightly into the mask.

"Agent DiNozzo, are you all right?" he asked again.

Still no movement.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs shouted.

Tony jerked awake from the sudden order, disoriented. He fumbled with shaking fingers and stiff joints until he was able to pull off the mask and suck in air, filling his lungs, and trying to focus on the voice. Every muscle in his body seemed to be shivering from the cold. "B-boss?"

The water had cleaned away much of the dirt and mud on his face, neck and hands, but without it, it was easy to see just how cold the man was. Gibbs said, "The water's receding."

"G-good," he said, teeth clattering.

Watkins spoke, "Tony, you should know that we think we have a way to get to you."

The only acknowledgement from him came in the form of a slight nod.

Ziva perked up, "How? And when?"

Watkins hedged somewhat, "I said, we _think_ we have a way to him. But our solution will take time, like another twelve hours. But it's the best we've got." Watkins looked at the exhausted NCIS members and commented, "Some of you had better get some sleep. He's going to need you later."

Chapter 8

Tony heard the music, eighties jazz, smooth and relaxing. They must have run out of things to say to him; unfortunately, he was anything but relaxed. The shivering had given him a headache and he was having a lot of difficulty just trying to remember where he was and what had happened. He would have been in total blackness except for the beam of light that constantly shown down on him.

If he could just free his legs, but he was too exhausted to try anymore. How long had he been down here? Eighteen hours? How much longer could he last? Would the water come back? God, he wasn't sure he could do that again. Would his father miss him?

Dad.

Dad? Should he call him? What would he say to him?

"B-boss?"

"I'm here, Tony," Gibbs whispered. He knew his agent didn't have anything to say; Tony just wanted to make sure he wasn't alone. Ziva and McGee and Ducky had all nodded off, but he couldn't. Even the Padre had found a comfortable chair and was dozing. But not Gibbs. He sat vigil, watching his senior field agent go through a myriad of emotions, from anger at not being able to free his legs to fear at the thought of the water returning. Then there was the look he seldom saw. "You want to talk to your father?"

'Do I?' Tony thought. "Not r-really. Just—" he cut off his sentence, then decided to finish, "just don't leave."

"I'm not going anywhere, Tony."

~TBC


	4. Chapter 4

_**Again, many thanks for the reviews. Enjoy the next section**_.

Chapter 9

"He has every right to be scared."

Gibbs lifted his head, startled by the voice, unaware that he had dozed off. The smell of hot coffee turned his head and standing next to him was Father Bailey.

"Here. You look like you could use it."

Gibbs first checked the monitor. Tony was exactly the same— still shivering and visually exhausted. He glanced down at his watch. Had it really been two hours! He rubbed his hands over his face and took the Styrofoam cup, "Thanks."

The minister stood at the edge of the tent, looking out. He sipped his coffee slowly and pondered the scene. "Your boy's a star."

Gibbs swallowed the black liquid, enjoying it before he turned and asked, "What?"

"Take a look."

The sun was beginning to crest over the horizon, with brilliant reds and blues, but that wasn't what he was looking at. The parking lot had exploded with vans and trailers and busses. They were double and triple parked with tall metal antennas sprouting out of the sides like antlers on a fifteen point deer.

Ziva yawned, then whispered, "What's going on?"

Gibbs deferred to the man of cloth for an answer.

Father Bailey took another sip of black coffee and stared across the vehicles. "People are watching, and not just the locals. People from around the country are witnessing this rescue."

"B-boss?"

Gibbs jerked back around to the monitor, "Yeah, I'm here, Tony." Once again, nothing more was forthcoming.

Ducky stretched discretely, then encouraged, "Tony, you need to drink something."

"W-what time is it?"

"Sunrise."

"How m-much longer?"

Gibbs answered, "They never stopped working on a plan last night."

Tony closed his eyes, thinking every minute was beginning to seem like hours. Ducky's calm voice flowed into the shaft again, "It's important that you take in fluids. We're sending down another thermos of coffee. This one, I want you to drink."

Tony thought the coffee was only a tease. He could barely hold it, and it got cold too quickly and only made him yearn for more warmth. "'kay," he lied.

Ziva turned her head away from the monitor, ashamed of herself for allowing such feelings of despair to overcome her. The activity in the parking lot caught her attention and she commented, "There must be fifteen different television stations out there."

McGee countered, "I bet there's more than that."

As the sun climbed into the sky, the reporters began to stake out the best place to report. Some chose the more distant yet beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains as their backdrop, while others chose the more serious military tents and makeshift huts. The occasional reporter who had tried to sneak past the tape to get a closer look found out quickly how protected and off-limits the area was.

Tony took a sip of coffee but his stomach rejected it and it took all his power to breathe through the nausea. He let the cup fall at his side.

Ducky said, "Try to keep it down, Tony."

"I'm fine," he replied, through gritted teeth, clearly not fine.

"You need to stay hydrated. Would you like some hot cocoa instead?"

Tony shook his head, still waiting for the nausea to pass.

"You have to drink some—"

"I said I'm fine!"

Ziva and McGee exchanged glances at the outburst. It was the first time their colleague had showed any emotion, and it unnerved them.

"I'm sorry, Ducky," Tony said after gathering his breath and swallowing. "I don't want anything… it's too hard to drink and my stomach doesn't want it."

Watkins came into the tent, acknowledged Father Bailey with a nod and said, "The Corps of Engineers have begun. Their plan is to access Agent DiNozzo from the West. There are more tunnels on that side of the mountain and less rock to blast through."

Ziva asked, "How long before they reach him?"

"Well, it's a long process and one that has to be done carefully."

"How long?"

"They started an hour ago. Assuming the maps are correct and there haven't been any cave-ins—"

"How long!" Ziva and McGee asked in unison.

"They're hoping to reach him by… midnight."

Tony closed his eyes. If minutes felt like hours, then 12 hours would feel like years.

Gibbs leaned into the mic and said, "Tony, it's time to think about other things. I know you don't want to, but we're sending down some food and warm water."

He tried to laugh; there was no way he could stomach anything, much less the news he'd just heard.

"Special Agent Gibbs!"

Gibbs turned to see two MPs standing just outside the tent.

"There's a… a… person saying she needs to see you." One of the MP's pointed across the way towards a hearse. "She's with another man. They claim they're with NCIS but I wanted to clear it with you before I let them in."

Through the throngs of vehicles, it wasn't too difficult to discern the dark colored wagon nestled among the trucks, but there she was, dressed in black and giving an MP an eye full of Gothic wonder. Standing behind her was Palmer, trying to smooth over the confusion that she was causing.

"Is that Abby?" McGee whispered. "And is that Palmer?" Ziva said with just as much skepticism.

Ducky said, "I do believe it is. I hope he's finished cataloging that inventory." But he couldn't mask the pleased tone of his voice.

Gibbs gave his permission and the officer whistled, giving the okay to a visibly relieved MP.

It took several minutes of rambling commentary from the Goth, but she eventually stopped talking long enough to see Gibbs pointing to the monitor.

When she saw the much clearer picture of Tony's prone figure, and then more of the mine shaft than she had seen on tv, she exclaimed, "Tony!? Tony!? Oh my God! Are you okay?"

Of all the questions he could have been asked, that was not the one he wanted to hear, but it was the sound of her raspy voice that offered solace. "Y-yes, Abby, I-I'm fine. J-just had my morning coffee d-delivered and I'm waiting for b-breakfast. R-room service is s-slow and it's particularly c-cold, but I'm in no p-position to complain."

"Tony—"

Gibbs cut her off, "Abby, what are you doing here?"

"It was Palmer's idea."

Caught off guard, Jimmy shook his head, "No! It wasn't! I just called her to see if she was watching the news, and… it went from there."

"News?" McGee asked, "What news?"

"Haven't you seen it? Tony's on the news!" Abby said, "He's on all the major networks and everyone's broadcasting his rescue! Although I have to say there isn't much of a rescue going on."

Tony was cut off by Watkins before he could utter the first syllable. "—She wouldn't know about the Corps of Engineers' plan, Agent DiNozzo," Watkins said into the mic quickly averting the trapped man's concerns. It was of little consolation, but Tony took what he could get.

Ziva clarified, "So you're saying that people from all over the state are watching this?"

"Try country! Tony's face is being beamed into every household in the nation, assuming they have a television, of course."

"How can that be possible?" Ziva asked. "It just happened."

Gibbs looked at Watkins for answers, but he shrugged and said, "I have no idea. We're supposed to be on a secure line."

Filing that topic for later, Gibbs knew that the one question on Tony's mind was the body, and it was the one question that could get Tony's mind off his present situation, if only for a minute. "Abby, were you able to ID the dead man?"

She pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over. "Yes. His name is Petty Officer Ted Weber. She then handed over a thumb drive and said, "All his information is on this."

Gibbs tossed it to McGee.

"I couldn't stay at the Navy Yard and just watch," she explained. "I felt so helpless."

Watkins bit his upper lip, wondering what the fallout from the expanded coverage of a supposedly secure operation was going to be. After the annoyed look from the NCIS team leader, he departed, saying, "I'm going to find out what happened. In the meantime, I suggest you keep your agent calm."

McGee pulled up the information on the drive and reported on the dead petty officer, thus beginning the delving into the life of someone who could no longer answer questions for himself.

Gibbs vacated his seat and guided Abby to it. "Sit. Talk to him."

Abby smiled knowingly and Gibbs was now certain she didn't have any idea of the real danger Tony was in.

Pulling Ziva and McGee aside, he asked, "How is this being transmitted to others?"

"I don't know. When we set up the link, I heard them talking about getting secured lines. I just assumed that's what they did."

"Ziva, find out what you can about the rescue."

"No problem."

"McGee, find out where the leak is coming from."

"On it."

"Ducky,…" his voice trailed off and he looked at the monitor. In a hushed tone, he whispered, 'How much longer can he stay down there?"

The doctor shrugged, "There have been reports of miners being trapped for months. As long as he's taking in fluids and food, and the elements don't get to him, he should be okay."

"It's those elements, Duck, that I'm worried about."

The doctor peered outside at the sky, then shared a knowing look with his medical assistant before slowly nodding his head in agreement.

Chapter 10

"Tony, I have to tell you that all the nuns are praying for you."

"I'm s-sure that will help."

"Oh, I know it will! When we were in the tournament and there was no way we could win without Sister Rosita, they all prayed that she would recover from the flu in time to bowl with us. And, you know what? She did! And we won the tournament!"

Tony had no idea how long she had been talking, but with Abby, she could go a long time. He was so blessed tired of shivering and shaking and dealing with the sharp pains that sporadically shot up his leg. It was all manifesting itself into a massive headache, and if all that wasn't enough, now his upper back was beginning to cramp up and spasm. They had dropped coffee, water, hot water, tea, and hot chocolate down to him, but the most he managed to do was spill it.

"You need to drink something, Tony," she said, her voice becoming serious.

"S-send me down s-something worth drinking, and I w-will."

"I'll see what I can do," she replied, her mind already thinking of possibilities.

"W-what time is it?"

Abby looked at the clock, "It's almost noon." Her heart broke at his pained expression. "You're going to be okay, Tony. Just keep hanging in there."

He wondered why everyone kept telling him to hang in there. It wasn't like he was going anywhere. Besides, right now, all he wanted to do was sleep, but every time he got to the point of slumber, the shivering or the pain would jerk him awake.

"Tony? Look up."

Tony focused on the object descending on him. It looked like another thermos, but as it got closer, he realized it was a bottle. He reached as far up as he could and felt a rope. It seems they were getting smarter in their method of delivery. He pulled the rope which guided the bottle almost to his chest. In the beam of the small light, he read, Jack Daniels Premium Whiskey. "Abby, I c-could kiss you right now."

She smiled and felt the smiling faces of her colleagues behind her. "Actually, it was Ducky's idea."

Unfortunately, like the water, it didn't set too well, and although it warmed him up, it had a worse affect on his stomach and head; he breathed hard through the nausea.

"Drinking on an empty stomach is never a good idea," Ziva said, watching her partner work through the abdominal pain.

They waited for his usual smartass remark, but, instead, he closed his eyes. It seemed to have had the intended effect because after the pain abated, he appeared to have fallen into a much needed slumber.

"It's about time, and although against my better judgment, at least it'll make the time pass faster for him," Ducky said.

Chapter 11

Sergeant Watkins hurried into the tent. "Agent Gibbs, I got some answers but you aren't going to like it."

Gibbs took a final look at Tony, who was still sleeping before cocking his head and expecting words to come out of the sergeant's mouth.

"I spoke to the base CO, and Agent McGee is right when he told you that at the last minute they went with an unsecured comm hookup. For that reason, the transmission was hacked by some clever television stations and sent out over the AP feed, being picked up by everyone around the country, not just the regional areas."

"So, take it down."

"Not that simple. It seems our CO, Colonel Burgess, signed off on it."

"Why would he do that?"

Watkins hedged, knowing the answer was going to infuriate a man like Gibbs, "I'm sure he had his reasons."

"What kind of reasons?"

Watkins looked into the expectant faces of the team. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, the best thing to do was to just say it. "PR reasons."

"What!"

"We've been having some problems with relations between the town's people and our base. Colonel Burgess thought that seeing a rescue like this would bring the two together."

Ziva said, "This is the only way you could think to improve relations?"

"Ma'am, it's not the only way, but it is ONE way."

Gibbs contained his anger and calmly said, "And what if the rescue doesn't work? What if, on national television, my agent dies down there? What does that do for your relations?"

Watkins didn't have an answer. Colonel Burgess didn't have an answer for him when he'd asked that very question, and he didn't have one now for Special Agent Gibbs.

Gibbs stole a glance at Tony, still sleeping, or so it appeared. "Where's your CO?"

"He's watching the events unfold from his office. If you'd like, I can take you to him."

A voice came from outside the tent, "That won't be necessary."

The team turned around and saw the entourage of people standing just outside the flap. The Secretary of the Navy, Clay Jarvis, along with Director Vance and Colonel Burgess lead the way. The SECNAV stopped at the edge of the canopy and surveyed the scene.

"Mr. Secretary," Gibbs greeted, shifting impatiently from side to side.

"Special Agent Gibbs," he acknowledged. When he spotted the monitor with DiNozzo on it, he walked over to it, leaving the base commander to explain his actions.

Colonel Burgess nodded and said, "I understand your concerns, Special Agent Gibbs, but we've talked it over and we have a real opportunity here."

"With all due respect, Colonel, I don't think broadcasting my agent's struggle to survive is good PR."

"And I don't recall asking your permission. I understand how this must look to you, but it's a good strategic decision."

"For who!"

"B-Boss?"

Gibbs whipped around towards the monitor, cleared his throat to mask his irritation, and replied, "Yeah, Tony. I'm here." The SECNAV stepped aside so Gibbs could speak into the microphone.

"What's g-goin' on?"

"The Corps of Engineers is making good progress."

Tony struggled again to move his legs, but to no avail. "What t-time is it?"

"It's early afternoon."

"You ID this man yet?"

Leon stepped forward and said, "Agent DiNozzo, this is Director Vance. I'm turning this case over to Wazinski's team. I think you have other things to worry about."

"D'rector Vance?" he said, worry beginning to form around his eyes. Intense shivering encompassed his body and he momentarily forgot about his Director. "Any way t-to warm up this area?"

Vance deferred to Watkins, who repeated for the fourth time, "If we send anything down that hole to warm it up, we could be risking a cave-in. I'm sorry, Agent DiNozzo, but it's out of the question."

Tony continued to shiver and winced, "My back… it's killing me."

Ducky said, "It sounds like muscle spasms, Tony. Try to relax."

"How can I relax when I'm stuck in a damn shaft freezing to death!?" His outburst caused a momentary pause, but given the circumstances, quite understandable.

Watkins soothingly added, "I know this is hard—"

"—YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT!" Tony responded, having tried to free his legs again only to be flattened by his own muscles cramping up on him. The confrontation startled Watkins who had never seen the agent anything but cooperative.

The preacher stepped in and the voice was new to Tony, "Special Agent DiNozzo, this is Father Bailey, Base Chaplain."

Tony eyes widened. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking until he opened his mouth and asked, "Boss?" Suddenly there was anxiety in his eyes, "Is there something I don't know?"

Father Bailey responded before Gibbs could say anything, "No, Anthony. I'm only here to talk if you need to, and to answer any questions if you have them?"

Tony didn't believe him. "Gibbs?"

"I'm still here, Tony. I'm not going anywhere."

Bailey continued, "You might find that I can be a good listener. Or a messenger if there's someone you'd like to contact while you're waiting to be rescued."

Tony pushed at the mud and tried to move his legs again, ignoring the deep voiced, non-denominational preacher.

Colonel Burgess whispered, "Can you send him some food?"

Ziva tried not to show her annoyance with the question and replied, "We have tried. He cannot eat."

"What about sending him down something to do? Like a book to read."

Obviously this base commander knew little about the man who was making him famous. "Tony is not the book kind. He's more the movie-goer. And, with all due respect, Colonel, I don't think he's in the mood to watch a movie."

While he pushed the mud around, still trying to free his legs, Tony listened to the whispering. He didn't recognize the voice asking the questions, but by now, no telling who was on the other end of that wire. He started to question the validity of what he knew. Were there really people digging their way to him? Why did they call in a priest? Why was Director Vance here? Who else was up there? No, he didn't want his brain to go there, but it was damn near impossible not to. A sudden and particularly painful spasm racked his entire upper torso and he slammed his head back, stretching his arms to keep the muscle from constricting. "FUCK THIS!" he exclaimed and in a flash, he held his weapon in his hand. "I'll fucking shoot whatever's holding me down!"

"DINOZZO!" Gibbs yelled at the monitor, seeing the light reflect off his Sig. "Don't do that!"

"WHY NOT? I don't see where any help is coming!"

Watkins charged, "It's coming, Special Agent DiNozzo! I swear help is on its way!"

Gibbs shot the Sergeant a look and toned, "I'll deal with him. You stay focused on getting him out!" Looking back at the monitor, he said a little less forcefully, "Tony, put the gun away," Gibbs' voice was calm yet firm.

Tony listened but it felt too good to be doing something other than freezing and waiting. The adrenaline was coursing through his body now and for the first time he felt in control.

"Tony?" Gibbs said, "Put the gun down. If you shoot, this mountain is coming down on you, and it's coming down on the people trying to rescue you."

Tony wasn't sure he believed that, but Gibbs said it, and he wanted to believe his boss. "Maybe they should clear out."

He said this quietly, resolved, like he had a plan and Gibbs didn't like the sound of it.

Colonel Burgess whispered to Watkins, "Is the gas ready?"

Gibbs stared at the commanding officer. It only took an extra second, but he suddenly knew exactly what kind of gas they were talking about. His body clenched around his heart and lungs and he refocused his efforts, "Tony, listen to me—"

Sergeant Watkins cut him off and said, "Agent DiNozzo, you have to understand that there are a dozen men in that mountain right now. They're working off maps and sonar pings to drill a path to you, but they have to make sure the mountain doesn't collapse along the way. This takes time, BUT THEY ARE COMING," he deliberately added. "You have to trust us; they are coming!"

Tony looked at the beam of light, hesitating. "Boss?"

Gibbs followed that by gently prodding, "Put the gun down, Tony. Let the Corps do their job."

Tony thought about dropping his weapon, but then what? He takes up where he left off, lying around, freezing, and waiting. And while he waits, he goes back to shaking and thinking about things he doesn't want to think about. If he could just be sure… "McGee?"

Tim jumped at his name, "Yeah, Tony, I'm here."

"Is what they say true? Are people really coming to rescue me?"

"Yeah, it's all true, Tony. I saw them with my own eyes gearing up."

"You mean they haven't begun yet?!"

"No, that's not what I meant! They started very early this morning. I saw them taking the equipment into the tunnels. I saw drills and tanks and all kinds of motorized tools being hauled in. They're working while we're speaking right now to reach you. But this mountain… it's virtually hollow inside and any wrong move could be disastrous for everyone."

Tony finally relaxed his gaze, allowing the gun to descend slowly onto the mud. He didn't lessen his grip, but he did remove his index finger from the trigger.

A sigh of relief swept through the tent, and if they were paying attention, they would have felt it throughout the entire camp.

At least until another bout of shaking convulsed the trapped man's torso.

Chapter 12

Tony was anxious, but he seemed to relax a bit when Ziva piped through the speakers his favorite jazz music again. One of the engineers got an idea and spliced into the frequency so it was being broadcast over the exterior loud speakers. The engineer did it for two reasons: one, he simply liked listening to that kind of music, and two, he knew it pissed off the reporters who tried at every turn to minimize outside noise. The unspoken reason, and one that Ziva simply picked up on, was that pissing off the reporters was something Colonel Burgess tried hard to avoid, and since nobody was a fan of the base CO, pissing Burgess off was icing on the cake.

Rumors flew around the camp about what Special Agent Gibbs had said to the Colonel in private, shortly after the gun incident had occurred. The good thing about a marine base was the grapevine was alive and well and most efficient in spreading news or gossip with alacrity and accuracy. According to scuttlebutt, if any harm came to his agent in the form of poisonous gas or other preventable means, Leroy Jethro Gibbs would personally blow the mountain himself without regard for consequence. Once the marines got wind of that, the respect they had for NCIS grew, and, subsequently, they seemed to work doubly hard at reaching the agent.

Father Bailey stood off a bit. Like everyone, he had nothing else to do but wait. Ms. Scuitto and Special Agent David were drinking coffee and watching the flurry of activity in the parking lot. More reporters had arrived and were negotiating places and coverage with others who didn't look like they were interested in cooperating with the new-comers. There were fewer places to park so the MPs were directing traffic and answering questions and trying to keep order amidst the chaos that was building. He sidled up next to the Goth and said, "It's getting busy out there. I wonder if your colleague is aware of his new found fame?"

Abby replied, "Tony wouldn't care about that; at least not now. And he's not just a colleague, Father. He's a good friend."

"I see the Secretary of the Navy made the trip. Does he usually make an appearance when an agent is in trouble?"

Abby and Ziva exchanged a quick glance before Ziva answered, "Secretary Jarvis and Agent DiNozzo have worked together in the past."

"I see," he said, but he really didn't. What he wanted to learn about was of a more personal nature. "I couldn't help but notice that Agent DiNozzo is particularly worried that Agent Gibbs may leave. Your friend doesn't strike me as the insecure type."

"Oh, he's not. He's extremely secure… well, about most things," Abby said.

"Where are his parents?"

"Maybe not so secure about that," she confessed under her breath.

Ziva said, "His mother is dead and his father is… usually not around."

Bailey caught the hesitation and asked, "Has anyone tried to call him?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea."

Abby elaborated, "You'd be surprised at the stories Tony tells us about growing up. We thought they were all fabricated or at the very least exaggerated, but now we think they all actually happened, and we believe he hasn't shared with us half of what really went on."

Father Bailey looked back at the monitor and studied the trapped man, who continued to shiver and stare at nothing. He realized that the man is, by all visual accounts, handsome. Even through the dirt and grime, he could see the features, which, no doubt, was fueling the desire of the reporters to cover this story.

Watkins entered the tent, "Bad news, Gibbs. The engineers just radioed that the east channel is filling with water." Tony turned his head towards the camera and Gibbs focused on his gun.

"What does that mean?" Gibbs asked, never averting his eyes from the Sig.

"It means that Special Agent DiNozzo may be under water soon."

"Relax, Tony," he whispered into the mic.

McGee followed him in and said, "I've just come from command central. The weather forecast is changing, Boss, and we could be in for a cold front this time tomorrow."

Gibbs repositioned his NCIS cap and looked across the field. The SECNAV and Director had left with Colonel Burgess but there was no doubt that, wherever they went, they were continuing to monitor DiNozzo carefully.

Watkins said, "The two-hour tanks were enough the last time, so—"

"No tanks."

"But, Sir, he's going to need that oxygen."

Frustrated, Gibbs continued, "Yes, he needs oxygen, not tanks! What if he needs more than two hours worth of oxygen?"

Watkins stared blankly.

"I can tell you what happens if he needs more than that; he drowns! I didn't put it together until now, but that would be considered collateral damage by your CO!"

Watkins paled. "Listen, you have to believe me; I wasn't aware of that until this morning."

"Like hell you weren't! When were you going to mention the gas?" Gibbs shifted from foot to foot, waiting for an explanation that wasn't there. "Now, I'm going to tell you how it's going to be done. You're going to drop a mask down that shaft and secure the air hose at the top. That way, it won't matter if some tank runs out of oxygen because he'll have all the air he needs."

"It's too dangerous. We didn't do that earlier because there's no way to monitor whether he's getting air!"

"No! You didn't do that earlier because your CO had other plans for my agent!"

"That's not fair, Agent Gibbs, and a pretty heavy accusation!"

Gibbs just stared at him and waited him out with that look; the one that dared him to disagree.

"Look, Agent Gibbs, I'm sorry but I take my orders from my Commanding Officer."

"Yeah? Well, Special Agent DiNozzo takes his orders from me." The meaning of his words hung in the air.

"You wouldn't!"

Gibbs raised his brow.

"The entire mountain could collapse with a single shot!"

Gibbs just stared.

Understanding the full implication of the threat, Watkins dropped his shoulders and said, "Let me see what I can do."

"Ziva, go with him."

"Boss-ss?" Tony said, his teeth still clattering from the cold. "W-what's happening? Did W-Watkins say the water is r-returning?"

"Tony, we're going to lower another mask to you."

"Is the water returning?" he asked again, with as much force as he could muster.

"Yes."

Tony felt the first splashes of cold against his hand and shivered. He lifted his torso, trying to escape it, then fell back, exhausted. "Boss, I don't know if I can—"

"DiNozzo—don't think about it."

"Easy for you—"

"Tony!" he said, feigning annoyance. "Pull it together."

Anger flickered across the trapped man's face and he looked around, but before he could respond, Gibbs lowered his voice, "You're not the only one looking for a way out! There are a hell of a lot of people trying to reach you right now and if you think you're going to ruin our chances, then take a shot. But before you do, you'd better give us fair warning so we can clear the tunnels! Do you understand me?"

The harsh words resonated around the tent. All eyes were on their very unpredictable senior field agent.

Tony looked at his Sig and thought about the people trying to make their way to him. They surely shouldn't have to die because he didn't want to fight anymore. He couldn't bring himself to look at the beam of light either. It felt too much like looking at his father right now. The water was chest high before the mask was lowered. He grabbed it and inserted the mouth piece and waited as the water rose over his chest and covered his head. He kept hold of his gun and rested his hand against the wall of the shaft. He couldn't hear the collective sigh of the people watching, nor see the relieved looks as he leaned his gun against the mud.

While the water rose, Tony thought it didn't feel as cold as it did the first time. He closed his eyes and imagined the warm Hawaiian waters of his youth. If he thought hard enough, he could even remember his mother teaching him how to surf in the tropical paradise. His breathing had slowed and the air didn't feel as rich as it did earlier, but at least he wasn't thinking about anything that might make him want to point the gun at his head and squeeze the trigger… at least not yet.

**~TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**~A huge thanks for all who have taken the time to comment and offer suggestions or make corrections. Hope you enjoy the final installment.**

Chapter 13

Gibbs continued to stare at the monitor, listening to the rhythmic breathing of his agent. Mostly, it was slow and shallow, but, at times, it was shaky. The clock ticked down, and had he been connected to an oxygen tank, he'd be very close to his last breath. "Ducky," Gibbs mused, "whad'ya think?"

Dr. Mallard shrugged, "If you're asking me how much more he can take, I would surmise not much, I'm afraid. He's fighting to survive and the mud packed around him is helping, but even Anthony, who's stronger than most, has a breaking point."

Ziva, McGee, Abby and Palmer listened, and stared at the monitor. The sun had set and the night air was downright cold. They couldn't imagine what it was like to be under water, and they realized one very sobering fact: if anyone but Tony had fallen into that shaft, it would be a very different story right now.

Father Bailey observed the dynamics. His job was to wait, patiently, until he was needed, but with this group, he could sense that could be a very long wait. Not much room for him. He looked at the monitor, and he too couldn't imagine what it was like to be alone the way their friend was. He approached the group and said, "He's made it this far, I predict that Sister Rosa and Sister Caroline and the other bowling nuns have pulled off a miracle."

Abby looked up and nodded. "If anyone could, it would be them."

McGee perked up, "Boss? I think the water is receding."

The news brought a collective sigh of relief but not joy as it had yet to be seen what condition the agent was in. Ziva had to admit that she was nervous at what they would see. She stared at the screen, wishing there was something more than black sloshing water to watch. The mask was the first to show, followed by the rest of Tony. The sound of his breathing was the only thing convincing them he was still alive, but when the water lowered, that sound went away. And when Tony removed his mask, they furrowed their collective brows. Was he actually smiling?

"Tony?" Gibbs gently said. "Are you okay?"

"I feel warm, and really sleepy. And I think everything's going to be okay."

Ducky shook his head and whispered, "Not a good sign." To the screen, he said, "Anthony, can you lift your arms."

Tony didn't feel like lifting his arms. He just felt like closing his eyes and remembering the vacation with his mother. It had been years since he thought about her this way, and he liked it. He could not have cared less that the mask was being pulled from his fingers and lifted out of the shaft by something. Even the grip he maintained around his gun didn't deter his mood.

Gibbs pinched his eyebrows together and asked, "Tony? Where are you right now?"

Thinking that was a stupid question, he replied, "Hawaii. Remember we go there each year? I really like to surf the waves."

Gibbs whispered to Ducky, "What's going on?"

"Hypothermia could be setting in. The symptoms are fatigue, delirium, confusion. When the shivering can no longer keep him warm, his body temperature lowers. He's coming to terms with his situation the only way he knows how. He's escaping to a time that he remembers fondly."

Gibbs watched the screen and it seemed like his agent was actually relaxing enough to fall back asleep. For the first time, Tony wasn't shivering. He seemed peaceful even with the water still dripping off his face. Gibbs tilted his head and watched his senior field agent, wondering how he could make this any easier on him.

Ziva turned away, directly into a blinding burst of light that exploded in her eyes. It was late enough in the afternoon to make the flash from the camera seem like a bolt of lightning. "Hey!" she admonished trying to regain her vision.

McGee asked, "Can I help you?"

The stranger was wearing a red pea coat with wide lapels and multiple buttons. Her matching red hat, scarf, and gloves told Ziva they were all from the same designer. "Hi! I'm Sally Gomez with CBS News. I was hoping you'd give me an update on your agent."

Ziva wasn't sure what to say first, but several expletives were making their way to her tongue. Gibbs reached over and lowered the monitor so she couldn't get a good look. "Are you even supposed to be here?" Ziva asked.

"I'm a reporter and I go where the news is. Seems like the news right now is being made here." Gomez did not get the reaction she was hoping for and spoke to her camera man, "Are you set up yet, Zack? You got enough light in here? I'd like to use some footage of this tent." Noticing their astonishment, she added, "I'm sorry for the intrusion, but the feed we're getting is intermittent. Seems like they want to give us just enough of your agent to keep our interest, but not enough to fill in the blanks of a top-seeded headline-making story."

"Who's 'they'?" Abby asked, not bothering to conceal her provocation.

"The base CO. He gave us access initially, and the story really took off. Whether you know it or not, your agent is capturing the hearts of a nation."

McGee blinked his eyes, confused and annoyed at her flippant ways. "How can a man trapped in a shaft twenty feet deep capture anyone's heart?"

She looked at him like the answer was obvious. "It happens all the time, but usually they're captivated when children and groups of men get trapped, rarely does a single man draw this much attention and all I can say is it has to do with his appearance. He's one hell of a good looking man, and the public loves a handsome guy in distress. His face has been beamed into every household across the country, and the response we've been getting has been incredible. Our switchboard tells us they can't get enough of him! They want more pictures! Hell, he'll have more marriage proposals and lewd offers than he can think imaginable. That's something you can tell him so he has something to look forward to. Better yet, let me tell him! I wouldn't mind getting to know him a little better!"

"And just how do you think the public will react if he dies in that hole?" Gibbs stated.

She shrugged off his comment and opened a notebook, "Now, can you give me any background information on him. Like, his name?" They knew that if she were to learn Tony's full name, everything ever put in print about him would be fair game for the media. She paused, waiting for someone to answer, but they were looking at her like she'd just grown a third eye. "Look," she said, "time is of the essence right now. We're trying to make the six o'clock news and he's great copy. The fact that every major news station in the country has sent someone here is incredible, but if I can get some inside information on him, I'll scoop the rest of these clowns and I may be well on my way to winning that elusive Pulitzer," she mused, unaware of the dangerous emotions she was tapping into from her audience.

Ducky stepped aside so that Gibbs could more squarely face her. Little did he know that both Ziva and McGee had moved towards her, too. Gibbs calmly stated, "We're not here for your entertainment. If you need a story, I suggest you find the base CO and ask him."

She was just about ready to argue when Watkins entered with two MPs, "Ms. Gomez! I've told you before that this area's off limits. If you continue to insist upon ignoring our rules, I will escort you and your cameraman off the premises."

"You can't do that, Sergeant. Freedom of the Press, remember?"

He inched closer to her and looked down into her smug expression.

She tried to keep eye contact but she felt herself feeling intimated, and was angry that she let him do that to her.

Watkins toned, "Did I hear you correctly, Ms. Gomez? Did you just threaten me?"

Her eyes grew wide, and darted back and forth recalling her last few sentences when she suddenly realized what was going on. "Hey, what are you trying to do? I never threatened you!"

Gibbs sidled, "I heard you threaten him."

"So did I," Ziva added.

Gomez turned on her camera man and said, "You got everything on tape, right?"

He paled, eyes wide, "I'm sorry, Sally, but I didn't have it rolling. I'm still trying to get the lighting correct."

She couldn't decide who she was more pissed off at, the sergeant or her cameraman. As she watched the Pulitzer slip away, she huffed from the tent, with the two MPs and a sullen Zack trotting behind.

"Sorry 'bout that," Watkins said. "I'll post more MPs. It appears as the story grows so too does their brazenness. Each reporter wants to scoop the others." He watched the group disappear into the darkness before he added, "Got some more bad news, Gibbs. The men had to stop drilling and take a detour. It's going to cause a delay in getting to him."

"Boss?"

Gibbs raised the monitor and realized quickly that Tony had snapped out of his blissful Hawaiian memories and was back in the mine shaft; his eyes always betrayed him. "I'm still here."

"Did he say they stopped digging?"

Watkins stepped forward, "No, not at all, Agent DiNozzo. They're still digging their way to you, they just had to take a short detour."

"Why?"

The question held a somber tone. Watkins always thought the best approach was honesty, so he answered, "The timber holding the mine in place is cracking. They're shoring it up as they go but they hit a spot that they don't think can be supported adequately, so they're going around it."

"How l-long will that t-take?" his teeth clattered, marking the return of the shivering.

"It'll be at least a couple more hours. But they're working around the clock, three shifts, twenty men. Don't worry… we're going to get you out."

Gibbs felt a newfound respect for the sergeant. He genuinely sounded like he wasn't going to stop until DiNozzo was pulled out of that Godforsaken mud hole. Gibbs waited for a response from Tony, but there was only silence. He pulled up his chair and sat back down, watching the video feed, staring at his best agent.

"Boss?"

"I'm here."

"Is that p-priest still there?"

Father Bailey perked up. "I'm here, Agent DiNozzo."

Gibbs vacated his seat and let the preacher slide in. Gibbs himself was never much on going to church, but he understood the need in other people to want religion in their life. He'd just never pegged Tony for being a religious kind of guy, but his agent was always surprising him. He leaned against the table that was holding all the equipment, and listened.

Father Bailey began, "Is there anything you want to talk about?" When a full minute passed in silence, he asked, "Perhaps, there's someone you want me to contact?" Now was the time to practice patience. The trapped man wanted to say something and it was just a matter of time before he did. He watched the second hand rotate three times.

"There is s-someone…"

A blanket of curiosity floated over the people in the tent and they leaned closer to the monitor, uneasy about listening in yet not being able to turn away. In their own way, they felt like they were voyeurs, invading the privacy of one of their own.

Father Bailey encouraged, "Is this someone a family member?"

"No. She's… she's someone I hurt. Really b-bad."

"Does she have a name?"

"Jeanne B-Benoit."

Gibbs tilted his head. It had been a while since he'd heard that name. The last time he met her, and it just so happened to be the first time he had met her, she accused Tony of murdering her father. And that was three years ago, maybe four now.

Ziva swallowed at the revelation. She knew he'd fallen hard for her, and she also knew that she had been resentful of her. That emotion had been difficult to pinpoint and it had taken Ducky to help her uncover her true feelings. She had no reason to be green-eyed of Jeanne Benoit now, but years later, she still felt the pangs of jealousy punching her in the stomach.

"What would you like me to say to her?"

Tony searched the blackened mud covered walls for words. He was never good at this sort of thing but if he never got to tell her how he felt, he would regret it the rest of his life, however short that may be right now. "Tell her…" What were the right words for Jeanne? That he loved her? That he cared for her when he never should have? That he lied to her because it was his job? No, none of that mattered right now. There were rules against what he wanted to say. But what good were rules if you couldn't break them? So what if it was a sign of weakness. He wasn't exactly the poster boy for strength. "Tell her I'm s-sorry."

Father Bailey considered the request, then considered the agent's actions that caused him to be sorry. Perhaps this is a mystery he'll never be privy to. "I'll do that; I'll tell her. But you keep those thoughts because I have a feeling you'll be able to tell her yourself." The preacher sensed that even if he had the opportunity to do that, something was preventing it. "Don't worry, Anthony, if it becomes necessary, I'll make sure she hears your words."

Tony turned his head away, and closed his eyes. His body shivered, and Gibbs wished he could remove the Sig from his fingers. Father Bailey leaned back and placed a hand over the mic, "Do you know where I can get in touch with this Jeanne Benoit?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Last I heard, she was avoiding hippos in Africa."

Chapter 14

Very little had been said during the past five hours. Tony shivered in the cold shaft, and every time Gibbs awoke from a ten minute doze, he checked on him, but it was always the same, him staring off into space. Gibbs stretched and looked around. Two large heaters were now blowing hot air into the tent and with six people and three flaps down, the place could be considered warm. Warm enough for his team to be fast asleep in various make shift beds.

He tilted the microphone down and spoke softly, "Tony?"

The only acknowledgement he got was a slow blink from his agent.

"You ready for when they reach you."

Another slow blink, but this time he whispered, "I'm ready."

"Can you feel your legs?"

Tony couldn't feel anything. He couldn't feel his legs, his waist, his arms. At times he wondered if he was still breathing. The only thing that made him feel alive was the constant and exhaustive shaking that his body involuntarily did.

Gibbs knew his answer without hearing one. He leaned in closer to the mic and said, "Tony? Can you let go of your Sig?"

He had forgotten he still had his fingers wrapped around its grip, but he hadn't forgotten that he still had it. The fight that burned within him had not completely dissipated, but it had given way to the possible repercussions of his actions; though not enough to lessen his hold.

Gibbs leaned back and felt a presence over his shoulder.

"Hey, Boss." McGee said, standing behind him. "How's he doing?"

Gibbs hated questions like this. For starters, McGee could see as much as he could and come to his own conclusions. For that reason, he didn't bother offering an answer.

"He will be okay, McGee," Ziva whispered, startling him but not Gibbs, "After all, it is Tony we're talking about, and he always comes out of things smelling like lilacs."

McGee furrowed his brow, "Roses. Smelling like roses."

Ziva shrugged, liking her reference better.

"Agent Gibbs?" Watkins said, entering the tent with an urgency they'd come to expect. "We're getting closer to DiNozzo. They have another three meters to get through and then they can start pinging the interior walls to get a more exact location."

Gibbs listened, aware that they were five hours behind schedule. But a small commotion outside the tent caught his attention. That same female reporter was making her way towards them, and by her expression, she was none too happy.

"What the hell is going on!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, Sir," one of two MP's said. "She demanded to see you."

Watkins glared down at the reporter, "Ms. Gomez, what can I do for you?"

"You can tell me why we no longer have access to the feed? One minute we're beaming his face around the country, and the next, we're seeing nothing!"

"I can't help you, ma'am. You'll have to talk to my CO."

"Who ordered the blackout?" she cried, ignoring his comment. "I demand to know!"

"I did."

All heads spun around towards the voice standing in the darkness.

The man took two steps inside the tent and was easily recognized.

"Secretary Jarvis," Gibbs acknowledged, greeting his superior with skepticism.

Sally Gomez narrowed her eyes at the man. "Mr. Secretary!" she toned, like she was scolding a young child, "You have no right to cut transmission. This is a BIG story! People around the world are following his progress—" she cut herself off suddenly when a thought came to her. "Is he going to die?"

Gibbs whirled around, but not soon enough. Wide-eyed, Tony stared into the camera. "Boss?"

"She doesn't know anything. She's a damn reporter trying to get a story. The engineers are very close to you."

"Is that the noise I'm hearing?"

Watkins nodded and said, "Most likely. They're trying to figure out exactly where you are so they don't accidently drill too close to you. They're using x-ray machines and sonar to figure the best approach."

Ms. Gomez strained her neck to see the monitor but it was being blocked by just about anybody in the tent who saw her craning. She returned her attention to the matter at hand, "Mr. Secretary, I demand you give us access to the video. The people want to know what's happening. They have a right to know what's happening. I want to talk to Colonel Burgess!"

"Colonel Burgess is no longer in charge of this rescue."

Watkins looked surprised at the announcement, but not unhappy. He knew enough to let the reporter ask all his questions for him.

"What! Why not?"

"Because Colonel Burgess had his own agenda, one that conflicted with the safety of my men."

"Okay," she said, pausing long enough to think about her approach. "So Burgess is out, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't have access to his rescue! We have an obligation to see this through."

"And I have an obligation to my agent. I have his best interest at heart, and if that means we cut transmission, then we cut transmission."

Gibbs studied the Secretary. There seemed to be another reason for stepping in, but as long as DiNozzo was getting rescued, he decided to table those thoughts.

Gomez tried a different tactic. Smiling, she politely sneered, "Mr. Secretary, I didn't want to have to resort to this, but you leave me no choice. You have heard of a little something called the freedom of the press, right? I would hate to have to report that you pulled the plug on this operation and denied our basic rights under the Constitution of the United States. You and I both know that the President doesn't like bad publicity. And this would be bad publicity like you've never seen before." She smiled again, happy with her methods.

Secretary Jarvis looked around before settling in on the young reporter. He took two steps closer to her and toned, "Ms. Gomez, if I perceived that to be an attempt at blackmail, I might have to escort you from the premises. And you can bring all the lawsuits you want against me, but you and I both know that your job depends on a willingness on my part to talk to you. And right now, I'm not feeling all that willing. I suggest you leave here before I have you removed, permanently."

She looked around, startled at his reaction, but understanding all too well that if he carried through on his threat, it would cost her her job. Turning, she huffed away, saying, "You haven't heard the last of this!"

Leon Vance had witnessed the exchange from the edge of the tent. He stepped inside and said, "Secretary Jarvis, you're due back in Washington. If you like, I can stay here and monitor the proceedings."

Jarvis nodded, "Okay. Keep me updated." He turned to leave and then stopped. Looking at the screen, he paused a minute as if he were contemplating saying something. He stepped closer to the microphone and said gently, "Agent DiNozzo, this is Secretary Jarvis?"

For as weak as he was, Tony was still able to muster, "Yes, Sir?"

"I expect to see you upon your safe extraction." And he turned and left the tent.

Gibbs took two steps closer to Vance and asked, "Why'd he remove Colonel Burgess?"

"It's like he said, the commander didn't have the best interest of our man at heart. In fact, this entire ordeal was nothing more than a giant PR stunt for the CO and he didn't care one way or the other if Agent DiNozzo lived or died. A fact that I might add didn't set too well with the SECNAV."

Gibbs didn't know if Jarvis was being benevolent or self-serving; only time would answer that one. As long as Tony was getting rescued, he didn't care the reason.

Tony had stopped trying to move his legs, by now, he was too weak to do much of anything but breathe. He cleared his throat and mumbled, "Probie?"

Surprised, McGee moved closer to the microphone and answered, "Yeah, Tony?"

"Is the water coming back?" he croaked, almost inaudibly.

McGee shook his head, "Probably not. As long as the beams hold, they'll have you out of there before it returns."

Watkins set his radio down and spoke into the microphone, "Agent DiNozzo, they think they're coming in beside you. Can you hear them?"

Tony had closed his eyes and without opening them, he barely nodded, "I hear s-something."

"Keep your fingers crossed, guys, we're very close, maybe even within the hour."

"You hear that Tony? Just in time for the sunrise," Abby stated.

The next hour was tenuous. Everyone crowded around the monitor staring at Tony, who looked weaker by the hour and his color had all but drained from his face. When the first bit of dirt began to fall onto him, Gibbs started talking him through it, "Tony, they're very close. Even we can hear them from here."

At this point, he gave no response. He shivered, but that was all he did and he never even opened his eyes. At 5:45am, they finally reached him. It began as a pea-sized hole and slowly they widened it, careful not to disrupt the already unstable beams surrounding him. They finally heard the faint voices of the rescue workers.

"Agent DiNozzo? I'm Sergeant Rowland. Can you hear me?"

Tony opened his eyes and saw the small softball-sized hole several feet away. "Yeah."

"We have to widen this opening, and once we do that, you should be free and clear. Hang tight."

Tony seemed to be drawing energy from the rescue and watched as the dirt tumbled down on him and the hole grew. Every twelve inches, they stopped to shore up the mud with beams of wood, and then they would begin again. Eventually, there was a three foot wide by two foot tall opening. Rowland poked his upper body through and surveyed the situation, "How're you doing, Sir?"

"Better now that you're here. Am I going out that opening?" Tony asked, looking at the large hole next to him."

"No, this hole is for shoring up the area. After we secure this space, we're digging under you. You'll drop down and we'll be one level below to catch you." Speaking into his radio, he reported, "We have contact with the victim. He's wedged in tight. We're still shoring up the exterior walls and securing the area. It'll be another forty minutes before we can begin extrication."

Watkins spoke into the microphone, "Sarge, no need to use the radio. We can see and hear everything you're doing."

"Roger that," Rowland said, only half listening. Turning back to his victim, he asked, "How're you doing, Cowboy?"

"I'm ready to get out of here."

"I hear that. I'm going to see what's got you pinned here." He began a delicate yet deliberate removal of debris around Tony's body, careful not to cause too much movement. He finally tapped on something hard and said, "One of the ceiling timbers must have fallen. You're lucky it landed on your legs and not your head; otherwise, this would be a different kind of rescue." He moved the timber slightly but stopped when DiNozzo yelped and grabbed for his leg. "I'm sorry, Sir, looks like your leg is broken. Sir, this isn't going to be very pleasant. Here," he pressed a mask towards Tony and said, "Take this and put it on. It'll help you relax."

Tony remembered the conversation he'd heard earlier and shook his head.

"Sir, we don't have much time. These timbers could give way any minute and—"

"I'm not breathing in that thing. Your CO would just as soon kill me as save me!"

"Sir, my CO has been relieved of his command."

Tony tried to read the man's face, but it was impossible, mainly because he was feeling nauseous and light headed and his vision was blurring. But he did have some recollection of hearing that Burgess was no longer in command, but not enough to assuage his concerns. He shifted the Sig slightly, catching the attention of Rowland.

Gibbs saw the movement and toned, "Tony, put the gun down, now."

His voice resonated in the small area, and even Sergeant Rowland was shocked by its intensity.

Tony immediately lowered the weapon, surprising everyone. Rowland cautiously took it from his hand and passed it backwards. He held up the oxygen mask again and said, "Your call, Agent DiNozzo."

Tony shook his head.

The most painful part was the pressure being lifted from his legs and then feeling the ground give way as he was lowered down. That's when they lost visual with the rescue and relied solely on the radio transmissions. Among the voices, they could hear the painful cries of Tony whenever they wrenched his leg.

Gibbs asked, "How are they getting him out?"

"They'll bring him out the Westside tunnel, close to the one they entered."

"How long will that take?" Ziva asked.

"Maybe an hour."

Gibbs said, "Take me there."

Watkins was secretly happy for the request. He wanted to be there when they came out too. "Let's go."

It took almost forty-five minutes, but Gibbs and team finally made it to the tunnel entrance. It looked just like the old abandoned tunnels you see in the movies. Shrubbery and brush covered the opening and old timbers hung down. Watkins radioed Sergeant Rowland, "What's your ETA?"

"We're thirty minutes out."

"Why so far?"

"We've stopped several times to rest. He's weak but…"

"But what?"

"I can't tell if my patient is delirious or in a lot of pain. He won't stop talking."

"That's Tony," Ziva said, not being able to conceal her amusement.

"We have a chopper ready to fly him to West Virginia General Hospital. You just get him to us safely and we'll do the rest."

"Roger that."

Gibbs looked around, "Where's the chopper?"

Watkins pointed over Gibbs' shoulder. He turned and was surprised at the helicopter majestically grazing in the open field. Ziva asked, "Isn't that the Presidential helicopter?"

Watkins smiled, "One of them. It seems even the President is watching. With this, we can keep the airspace clear and he can have some semblance of privacy. I take it, Agent Gibbs, that you'll be accompanying him to the hospital?"

Gibbs nodded, "Oh yeah, I'll be accompanying him. I just hope he's awake enough to know what he's flying in."

Ducky offered, "Don't worry Jethro, I'll take pictures of him in it. That should speed his recovery."

"That, and the hundreds of marriage proposals coming in for him," Watkins added. "I hear he's averaging about one every minute."

McGee said, "Tony's sort of a commitment phoebe, so he won't have any trouble turning them down, but I suspect he'll milk this for all it's worth."

The noise alerted them to the shaft and soon the first rescuer emerged, carrying heavy equipment. Three more engineers followed, all covered in dirt and grime. Finally, after a handful of men had cleared the exit, Tony came out, being carried by two marines.

"Tony!" Abby yelled, but he didn't respond.

They stood back while the medics placed him in a basket that had been brought over from the chopper. As best as they could they surrounded their colleague, but he held onto the sides like he were waiting for the pain to abate, something that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

Tony heard all the voices and saw some familiar faces, but he only cared about one, "Gibbs?"

"I'm here, Tony."

Now he could relax and that's what he visibly did. He allowed his eyes to close and his muscles to soften. Even his jaw didn't look so set. It was as if he had completely dropped his guard now that he was in the capable hands of his superior.

"Wow," Rowland said, "Wish we had you in the tunnel with us. You're better than a sedative."

Gibbs and Watkins followed the men towards the chopper whose blades were beginning to spin. "I can't thank you enough, Sergeant Watkins, for all your help."

"It's my job, Special Agent Gibbs. I should be thanking you for getting rid of the base CO. When the results of an investigative report comes out, you may be surprised that we got your man out alive."

Gibbs waited until they secured the basket before climbing in. Once the doors closed, the interior was shielded from the usually loud rotor noise. The medic attending to the patient sat back, not exactly sure where to begin. His patient was a bloody and muddy mess. He had already stabilized the leg as best he could and he had wiped off some of the deeper cuts. The only thing left to do was replace the blanket, which he did with Gibbs' help. As for Tony being able to appreciate the ride, Gibbs doubted he even knew he was in a helicopter.

In the hospital, Gibbs watched them roll Tony away. The staff had been waiting for him and was fully prepped to take him. Arriving in the presidential helicopter had its advantages. Or maybe it was the national coverage that afforded him the special treatment. Whatever it was, the small town of Teays Valley, West Virginia, was now permanently etched into the minds and hearts of America, thanks to a handsome young federal agent.

The silence of the waiting room was disturbed when Abby burst through the door. "Where is he? Is he okay?"

Gibbs endured the arrival of the rest of his team. He was surprised to see several soldiers following them.

McGee explained, "These men escorted us here. They thought the media might be a problem and posted a perimeter so Tony can get the best care without the interference of nosy reporters."

Ziva asked, "So, how is he?"

"In surgery. The broken leg needs to be set and he may have a cracked pelvis, cracked ribs, and internal bruising. They won't know the extent until they open him up."

"Is he going to be okay?"

Ducky answered, "None of those is life threatening, my dear, but he will be in considerable discomfort for a while."

"I thought Director Vance beat us here. I guess not," McGee said.

"He did. He left after he was sure Tony was going to be okay. Said he needed to get back and open the investigation on Colonel Burgess."

Gibbs thought about sending the rest of them home too, but he knew they wouldn't go. He wouldn't go if he had been ordered to, so why would he think that they'd go? He pulled up a chair and waited. One by one, the others followed suit.

Chapter 15

It had been four weeks since the cave-in and the hordes of people lingering outside of NCIS headquarters began to dissolve. Tony had been ordered to convalesce at an undisclosed location until the reporters and paparazzi lost interest in the story. It was the longest three weeks of his life. He was bored and the closest person to his age was still 30 years his senior. That's what you get when you recuperate in a VA Hospital four states away, but all was not lost as he found these older gentlemen to be somewhat entertaining and a great audience for his fodder. Gibbs had also purposefully cut off all his communication with the outside world, so Tony had no idea he had been the talk of a nation. McGee purged his inbox routinely and Gibbs had his mail rerouted to his address, allowing him to remove any mail of a fanatic nature.

As far as anyone was concerned, the man that captured the hearts of millions of people was whisked away to maintain his secret identify. The only thing that remained and the only thing that kept the story alive was the occasional swoon from the news anchors, as they recalled events from the ordeal, and longed for just one more glimpse of the handsome man who, thankfully, did not suffer the same fate as the miner in the well known and often referred to story, Remember The Songbird.

Gibbs' only concern now was the inevitable "Do You Remember?" segment that stations ran exactly one year after a nation captivating event occurred. He leaned back in his chair and decided that would be a good dilemma for the SECNAV to handle. A smile crossed his face and he looked at his calendar. Two more weeks and Tony would be back. Then, finally, he could enjoy his job again. After all, it was Tony who gave his team the life and the personality that he so enjoyed.

~Fini

**Thanks for reading! As an aside, the story Remember the Songbird is fictitious-I made it up**.


End file.
